An Incongruent Truth
by wurd-god
Summary: She sold her soul to save the ones she loved but what happens when the two brothers try to save her, risking everything she fought for and Sam's life in the process? Sequel to An Unfathomable Truth, during Season 3, Sam/OC *Retired*
1. An Incompatibility of Truths

_**Disclaimer:**__ I do not own Supernatural or anything you recognize from it._

_Hi everyone. So, we're finally here! It felt like it has taken us years to reach this point and maybe it has, but I do hope you all enjoy it. I wasn't really planning on continuing with Tony's story as I didn't think there were still interested parties but colour me surprised when I received a huge response. So, here it is. There will be A Lot of changes from the head cannon but I've kept the basics. I've also tried something a wee bit different for this chapter; I'd love to hear your thoughts. I really do hope you'll enjoy this and please review and let me know what you think. This sequel is written just for you. _

**Chapter One**

**An Incompatibility of M&Ms, Resurrections, and Weariness**

Tony leaned farther back into her chair, her muddied boot clad feet resting on the kitchen table in her motel room, her entire body frozen in concentration. Her eyes were glued to a calendar she had tacked to the wall upon entering what would be her makeshift home for however long it took her to complete the hunt.

It had been exactly three months to the day when she had sold her soul to bring Sam back from the dead, to save Dean from a life of self-hatred, guilt and loneliness…but to be perfectly honest: she was selfish. She sold her soul because she couldn't bear the thoughts of Sam being buried in the ground while she kept breathing, never being able to see him again. She was honest enough to admit that she was a selfish fool, but still, she didn't regret anything. If she had a chance to redo the deal with the crossroad's demon, Tony McBride Holloway would not have changed a thing.

So one might ask, if Tony adored the Winchester brothers so much, why did she leave them three months ago? In her way of thinking, she was protecting them and she was still adamant that it was for the best. Regardless of becoming an insomniac, of losing an inappropriate amount of weight, and taking unneeded risks when hunting. No, Tony honestly believed that leaving Sam and Dean behind so they could move on with their lives was for the best. She didn't want to become a constant reminder of Sam's death and resurrection, of Dean's self-appointed guilt, and of her impending death. No, she wanted them to move on with their lives and use her death as a gift of sorts, this was their second and last chance at a life and she hoped they weren't going to screw it up.

When she had left Bobby's house those months ago, Tony had sped away in her 1969 Dark Blue Chevy Camaro, aptly named Tracy, and refused to look back. She hadn't cried during her drive, she hadn't cried when she left Bobby's house, hearing things smash and break in her wake, she still hadn't cried when she smashed her mobile phone and got rid of the plastic pieces. And when she found herself three states over, standing in the doorway of her empty motel room, hopes stupidly rising when her mind tricked her into believing both brothers would stumble out of the bathroom and envelop her in a crushing hug…no, she hadn't cried then either.

She had haphazardly-strewn salt around the doors and windows, not bothering to unpack her duffel…in all honesty, she didn't even care if the things that went bumping in the night would come and pay her a visit. Hell, she welcomed the idea of an early death. It was a fool's thought but true nonetheless. She was tired of fighting against things that never even died, she didn't want to go on anymore without Sam and Dean but she would. She had a year to live and she would spend that entire year killing as many sons of bitches as she could find.

Tony never really thought deeply about why she had sold her soul, yes, she was selfish but there was a darker and deeper seed in her: one that she had only ever thought about in desperate and very dark days. It was the recognition of her end, the acceptance that she was okay with the idea of her dying, she had lived a long and full life: she was so very tired that even her marrow ached.

She heard a beeping and glanced down to the mobile phone on the scarred table resting near her elbow, and sighed, "Hello?" She asked, her voice heavily laced with weariness and lack of sleep.

"Are you ever going to tell them where you are hiding?" She heard Ellen's worried and annoyed voice whisper over the static into her rebellious ear. She didn't want people to care about her; she wanted to disappear from everyone's thoughts and memories so that no one would ever mourn for her. She didn't want anyone to feel pain over her death. Tony knew this was Ellen's weekly check-in with her and lately she was becoming more annoyed than grateful.

When she had destroyed her last phone and bought a new one, she had used a few tricks Ash had taught her, so that she would remain untraceable. Not even the CIA would be able to trace her. She had finally relented one bitter cold morning and phoned Ellen, wanting to hear something comfortingly familiar. But that had been months ago and now Ellen's weekly phone calls were becoming weekly annoyances rather than welcomed moments.

She could now think of Ash with nothing but a dull ache and a fond smile, she knew that all of the people she had lost in her life were steps that had to be taken to lead her here. She was still as bitter and angry about some of the ones she had lost but she refused to cry the rest of her days away, she would see them again…its was only a matter of time now.

Tony frowned, not bothering to tear her eyes away from the red circle she had drawn over the date, the day she had kissed the Crossroad's demon, "I'm not hiding, Ellen. I'm hunting." Her free hand absently tapping the gun resting in her lap.

Ellen scoffed, "Even Bobby's worried sick."

Tony felt another wash of pain swarm over her: there had been a time when she had been happy, when she hadn't felt such anguish. But now, it was the only reminder that she was still alive, "That's a low blow, Ellen. Even for you."

She heard a sound, as if it pained Ellen but Tony refused to feel anything more, "We're worried about you, girl. Sam and Dean—"

Tony sat upright, swinging her feet to the ground and shoved away from the table, the chair falling: a loud crashing reminder that she was still not over hearing the names of the ones she had left behind, the ones that still held her heart, "What do you want, Ellen?" The raw edge of steel in her voice: her hands tightening around the phone and gun in rage.

"They're trying to get you out of the deal."


	2. Of Dealings, Phone calls and Melancholy

_**Disclaimer:**__ I do not own Supernatural or anything you recognize from it. _

_I want to thank Arathi.x, Deedle2226, and ChiyukiLuvs2Glomp for reviewing and to everyone that has this story on alerts and favourites. I was thinking of just stopping this story regardless since I honestly didn't think it was worth it but I'm content in knowing there are people out there reading this story. Please enjoy, and please review. _

**Chapter Two**

**Of Dealings, Phone calls and Melancholy**

_Tony stared into the Stygian, opaque eyes, "You promise to bring him back?" It was all she really cared about._

_"I will. And because I'm such a saint, I'll give you one year. __And only one year__. But here's the thing. If you try anything or weasel your way out, then the deal is off. Sam drops dead. He's back to rotten meat in no time and the hatred Dean feels for you only intensifies. So...it's a better deal than John Winchester ever got. What do you say?"_

_Tony walked up to him and offered him her hand, "Deal."_

_He looked down at her palm in distaste, "Oh, you green girl." And pulled her to him, kissing her firmly on the mouth._

Tony shook her head trying to rid the living nightmare of selling her soul from her mind, she had to focus: what Ellen had said had shaken her. More than she cared to admit. She frowned at the calendar, she knew both brothers would try their damnedest to try to get her out of the deal but quite frankly, she wasn't really worried. She knew there was only one-way and that meant her death. But if Ellen had phoned her and warned her, then the other hunter must be worried that the brothers were closing in on finding an out for Tony or they were in danger. In any case, Tony was still shaken.

"What are you talking about, Ellen?" She gently placed the gun on the scarred table and moved away from the calendar and out of the motel room, leaving the door open at her back. She leaned forward, her free hand griping the railing as she tried to fill her lungs with fresh air but no less cloying.

Ellen made a sound on her end, "They're working with Bobby…going city by city rummaging around until they find a piece to the puzzle."

"Why are you telling me this?" Tony asked quietly, a sliver of surprise warming its way into her consciousness. Ellen had always supported Tony, regardless if she agreed with the younger woman or not.

"Because you fought to save the people you love, Tony. And with what we do…there's always going to be some sacrifice. I'm not happy about the price you have to pay but I've come to accept foolish, idiotic things from you."

Tony winced when she heard Ellen's voice raise an octave throughout her explanation, "Bobby supports me." She pointed out.

Ellen scoffed, "He supports you if you need anything but he's not happy about the deal, Tony. Even you have to know that. And those three…they'll do everything in their power to save you. Even if it cost them their lives."

Tony nodded, hearing what was unsaid: Ellen would rather she died than having three great hunters die because of her. Though it stung, it was the truth. "I'll take care of it." She quietly said, hanging up a few minutes later after Ellen said goodbye. She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. She had wanted to cut it obscenely short but with only a few months left, she honestly couldn't be bothered with her damn hair.

She turned and entered her motel room, kicking it shut absentmindedly as she made her way to the table where her laptop rested. Ash had taught her more than she had ever thanked him for, he had taught her things that not even Ellen knew he had been capable of. Since she had left, she had been tracking the three hunters on her laptop, hacking into Sam's computer constantly and checking their emails. It was pathetic and went against everything she stood for but it was the only way she had survived those three months without them. She was like an addict needing a fix. She frowned when she read some of Sam's notes she had copied to her hard drive: they weren't making it easy on her. Why couldn't they just accept fate and move on? She didn't want to phone and threaten them but if she had to, she would. She wasn't playing the martyr, unlike what Dean thought: she honestly knew that if they tried to renegade out of the deal, Sam would die. And she refused to accept that.

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Sam stared at his computer screen, he swore he had saved a word document to his computer about possible leads to check out about Tony's deal but he rummaged through his entire hard drive and realized it had simply disappeared. He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his weary, grainy eyes: he was so tired and he ached. Not only did his body ache: running on a few hours of sleep a night and one or two meals a day but his heart hurt.

When he had lost Jessica, it took him a while to move on but now that Tony had disappeared, sometimes he couldn't even breathe against the building pressure. But he kept moving forward, he _had_ to save her: there were no other options. He went through his hard drive once more as a precaution before rubbing his eyes yet again, this wasn't the first time things were deleting themselves on his computer and if he was really suspicious he would connect the dots: they were all in relation to the deal Tony made and how to get her out of it. He rubbed a hand over his heart absently: there was so many things he missed about her that he realized he missed _living._ He may be alive but he wasn't living anymore. Not when she was out of his life.

Dean glanced towards the table where Sam was sequestered, his laptop and papers strewn around him and sighed. His brother was hurt and he would have to be blind and dumb not to notice how much _She _had hurt him. He tightened his fist around his gun he was cleaning and scowled, it had been three months since…and he still couldn't bring himself to think about her. Whenever he did, he was filled with rage, anger, hurt, betrayal, guilt…it was too much for him. But just because he refused to think about her or even utter a word about her, did not mean he wouldn't help Sam with his useless quest.

He knew the ramifications if Sam managed to break the deal Tony had made and it was possibly the reason why Sam and Bobby never mentioned her name in front of him or the reason why he left the room if he heard her name. She had put him in a situation he never even thought would exist: he had to choose. Fight for his chosen sister or keep his hereditary brother alive. He stood up, rage boiling under his skin and muttered something under his breathe before slamming out of the motel room.

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Tony took a bite out of her cold, greasy burger and stared at her laptop screen, and forced herself to chew and swallow the vile fuel. She threw her burger aside and forced her mind to make sense of the jumbles, a roaring white noise thundering in her ears. Why the hell was Bobby fixing the Colt and why the hell did Sam think it a great idea to see if he could kill the demon she had made a deal with? It wouldn't work, the crossroads demon had only accepted the deal she had made, and surely he wasn't the one calling the shots. She wiped her hands on her worn jeans and began pacing around the cramped room: why couldn't they just damn well accept her fate? She wasn't scared, she wasn't freaked out, she was fine with dying in nine months. The pathetic thing was: it gave her something to look forward to.

She stared at her phone and knew what she had to do. She couldn't phone Bobby, he would just deny and curse at her and damn it, she had to do something to save Sam. She picked up her phone and punched in Dean's mobile number, ignoring the fact that she knew it by heart and shoved the phone to her ear: holding onto the rage. Rage was better than hurt and pain. She tapped her foot impatiently, waiting for him to answer. She didn't bother worrying about him trying to trace her: they hadn't exactly been on speaking terms when she had left and thanked Ash yet again for teaching her yet another invaluable tool.

"Hello?"

Tony closed her eyes, relishing Dean's gruff voice: it had been so long that for a few terrifying moments she thought she had forgotten how he sounded. But she could never forget the deep and biting voice. She swallowed and took the leap, "Dean?" She asked, her own voice hoarse from the lack of use and growing emotion.

She heard a slight intake of air on his end and squinted her eyes, trying to catch any nuances she got and waited a full minute. It wasn't until the second minute passed her by that she realized he still refused to talk to her: the rage slowly ebbing into heart-breaking pain: something she was used to these past months, her only comfort. "Fine, Dean." She muttered, "I'm sorry to be a bother but you have to do something about Sam and Bobby."

She waited half a minute and sighed again, one thing could be said about Dean and it was that he was a stubborn bastard that committed to his anger. "Trying to fix the Colt is a great idea to kill demons but killing the Crossroads demon to get me out of the deal isn't. I made a deal with the demon, Dean and I will hold up my end of the bargain. He told me that if I tried to get out of the deal, they'd take Sam back. You do care about that, right?" She snorted to herself, past caring if he heard her or not, "So make fucking sure that Bobby and Sam don't pull any stunts." She expelled in a rush, disconnecting the call and throwing her phone across the room to land on the bed. Had she actually been expecting Dean to forgive her?

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Dean stared down at the phone in his hand and ignored the pounding of his heart, _what the hell had just happened?_ He turned on his heel, away from the bar and began the long walk back towards the motel, too shocked to feel anything else. He never expected a call from _her_ and he was damn curious how the hell she knew what they were all up to. Butshe had been right about one thing: Sam and Bobby had to stop before they did something no one could fix. He was pissed and he had to accept that someone had beat him to it, saving his brother when it was his fucking job…

He unclenched his jaw and unlocked the motel room door, rolling his eyes when he realized Sam hadn't moved. "What? No date with your demon girlfriend?" He mocked, ignoring the hurt flashing in his brother's eyes. He didn't like Ruby, hell: she was a demon and the idea of trusting a demon was so implausible to him, it was almost laughable.

"Whatever Dean. But Ruby said she could get Tony out of this mess—" Sam started and for once, Dean snapped. He was so tired of hearing the hope the damn demon elicited from his brother, that he was sick to his stomach with it.

"Enough, Sam." Dean snapped. "Just…give it a rest, okay? I mean, haven't you ever thought that if she _wanted_ to get out of the deal, she would be here with us?" He explained, "You and Bobby and that demon bitch just need to stop this shit. It's getting old, Sammy."

Sam stood up, his chair crashing to the floor and took a few menacing steps towards his older brother, "You know what's getting old? This damn 'nonchalance' routine: you pretend not to care and to act disinterested but you do care, Dean! And you are bothered that she gave up her soul before you had a chance to."

Dean shoved his brother away from him, a caged animal attacking, "It's my goddamn job, Sammy! I'm your older brother, I was supposed to be there for you…fuck." Dean broke off, swallowing down a sob, and wiped at his betraying eyes.

"We have to try to save her, Dean. She saved me but she also saved you." Sam quietly commented.

Dean shook his head, trying to push down the tears, "No." He swallowed down the emotion and ignored the tears falling from his eyes, his younger brother in the same state, "You'll die if you get her out of the deal, Sammy. I can't—" Dean swallowed and scowled at his younger brother, "Stop this before it's too late." He ordered and locked himself into the bathroom to clear his head. He stared at the phone still clenched in his hand and swallowed. He shouldn't have treated her this way, he shouldn't have been so rude but damn it, he was still hurt and angry.

Sam stared at the locked door and wiped his tear-stained face, what had brought on this turn for Dean? As far as he was concerned, his brother refused to acknowledge the existence of Tony and just went along with him and Bobby because he didn't want to speak up…_right?_ He righted his chair and sat down, typing a note to himself in a word document: that he, Bobby and Ruby had to be quieter.


	3. Living Nightmares and Damned Cities

_**Disclaimer:**__ I do not own Supernatural or anything you recognize from it. _

_**Thank you to every single one of you that is reading this and to the lovely reviewers. **_

**Chapter Three**

**Living Nightmares and Damned Cities**

Tony threw herself on the ground, finishing the exorcist incantation despite the pressure on her throat and let her body relax when the host purged the demon from his body. She closed her eyes briefly and inhaled the cool night air into her starving lungs: the demons were getting stronger and angrier. She heard a groaning sound and shoved herself into a sitting position before getting to her feet, "Where am I?" The man asked, clutching his head.

She told him a bogus story and helped him to his feet before handing him money for a taxi, if Sam and Dean were here, they would make sure he got home safely but now that she were on her own and only had nine months or so to live, she was under a tight schedule. She sped off towards her motel, stopping to pick up food before parking haphazardly and slamming her way into her salt covered room. For once, she hadn't listened to a word the demon had spewed at her, she already knew the basics: she was heartbroken, the brothers had moved on and she was going to die…what else was new?

She threw the food on the aged plastic teal table and opened her laptop, connecting it to Sam's hard drive as Ash had taught her so many years ago. She unwrapped her burger and took a large bite, opening a new word document Sam had saved a few nights past, she leaned closer and her heart stopped. She threw the food aside and swallowed the vile morsel in her mouth before rubbing a hand over her aching heart: _who the hell was Ruby?_ She sat back and stared at that damned name, drowning in a sea of conflicting emotions. She had left and she had also preached that Sam should move on with his life but damn it, had he already moved on with this Ruby? And was she a hunter? She was pissed and very hurt: she closed the word document and disconnected from Sam's computer. She no longer felt the need to delete his findings on how to get her out of the deal or slink around in the shadows pretending she didn't exist.

She ignored the heaviness in her stomach and pulled out her phone, if there was one person she knew that would keep things honest, it was Bobby: regardless if he were still pissed about her deal or not.

"What?" She heard his gruff voice slightly sleep-clogged ask.

She glanced at the clock across the room and mentally shrugged, it wasn't the first time she had woken him up, "Who's Ruby, Bobby?"

She knew the minute he shook off sleep and became fully aware when he began cursing under his breath, "Damn it girl, I know you like to do things your way but it would be kind of nice if you didn't bring us down with you. Especially when it's so goddamn late."

Tony rolled her eyes, she didn't feel the need to point out to him that technically it was early morning, "Ruby, Bobby." She ordered.

"I don't have to tell you anything, girl. You left to go hunt on your own, why the hell are you keeping tabs on them boys?" He snapped.

She ran a hand through her hair and winced when she grazed a tender spot, she knew Bobby was only attacking her because he was hiding something. Bobby was a lot like a cranky child that couldn't lie, he hid behind this large wall of crankiness and cursing, hoping no one would dare venture past. Oh, but she would, just as she always did. She had enough snarl to match his. "Damn it, Bobby, tell me the god damn truth. Who the fuck is Ruby?" She snapped…or yelled, she wasn't really sure at that point.

"Don't you dare raise your voice—"

"Bobby." She threatened.

She heard him expel air, "She's a demon that is convinced she can help Sam get you out of this deal…she…might have helped me fix the Colt as well." He growled. 

"Are they hunting right now?" She quietly asked, forcing the words past her clenching throat.

"Of course they are." He retorted. She nodded to herself and hung up, grabbing a few coins from the table and numbly walking out of the motel room.

Leaving the Winchesters had hurt, more than she had ever thought: she had lost weight, sleep…it was like she had lost a big part of herself but now? Now she was past feeling, it was as if the ocean of hurt had finally drowned her. If this is what it felt like to be dead, then she had something to look forward to in nine months. She spotted a payphone and briskly enclosed herself in the dirty; graffiti dome and shoved the coins in the slot, absently dialling Dean's mobile number.

Knowing he was on a hunt, his phone would be turned off and the call would be sent straight to voicemail was something she counted on. She had no intention of facing off with Dean again; his silent shunning hurt and she doubted she could take much more. "Dean…" She awkwardly began before shaking her head, she wasn't going to start anything with his voicemail machine…she had done that before: that time he had been highly amused but thing had changed. "Keep an eye out on Ruby." She said, trying to throw the steel-edge into her voice and slammed the phone back into its receiver when she realised she sounded more pathetic than forceful. She squared her shoulders and left the dirty payphone and headed back to her room.

She slammed the door shut and walked to the table, trying to calm her breathing until she realized the pounding of her heart and the build-up of anger and hurt wouldn't go anywhere. "Son of a bitch!" She shouted, grabbing a nearby chair and throwing it across the room, a screeching reminder that she was anything but okay. She ignored the large dent in the wall, the fact that she still had more research to do and the burning pain in her heart.

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Tony blinked and rubbed her eyes, feeling grit burn and rub against her eyeballs, she cursed under her breath and froze. She turned slowly, trying acclimatise herself to her new surroundings and felt her stomach drop when she recognised the same gravel roads intersecting. She was back at the same Crossroads where she had made the deal: she straightened her shoulders and tried reminding herself that she was dreaming…that's all that it was…just a dream.

She glanced up, breathing in the cold night air and her heart jolted in recognition; it was the demon in the suit from all of those nightmares ago. But this time, when she awoke, dripping with sweat, she couldn't turn in Sam's arms for comfort. She suddenly felt very small and very alone, standing before the demon.

"It's been a long time, Tony." He quietly said, taking a few more steps towards her.

She shrugged, she was _not_ going to lose her temper: she didn't really have the energy anymore, regardless if she were dreaming or not. "Didn't really notice." She quietly said.

He squinted at her, moving closer to her and shook his head, "The fight is out of you." He made a clucking sound, "You were so feisty before…a little kitten with claws."

She squinted at him; she was _not _going to say anything, he was just ribbing her and all she wanted to do was wake-up, "What do you want?" She asked quietly.

He scowled, his perfect smooth alabaster face with coal eyes lined with annoyance, "You're no fun. If I would have known you would be acting like this, I would have made the deal with Dean instead."

She straightened her shoulders, "I'm not going to play your sick games, demon-breath. I'm tired and I want to sleep." She snapped.

He threw his head back and laughed, clapping his hands in amusement, "Now I'm enjoying myself." He chortled before staring at her, his face void of emotion, "You haven't slept well since you left those brothers."

"What do you want?" She snapped, her patience wearing thin.

He straightened his shoulders, "I want you to make sure the Winchesters don't try to get you out of the deal."

She frowned, "Isn't that your job?"

He bent his head slightly forward, "I must admit, we are eager to have Sam back."

She opened her mouth to retort but stopped when he quirked an eyebrow, "I really wish I could be there for your homecoming in nine months. I wish I could see your face when you realize what we have in store for you."

Tony sneered, she wanted to be afraid, hell, feeling anything but numbness would be a reprieve but the terror didn't come, "We?" She asked uninterested. At this point, anything demons said were inconsequential.

"My boss, silly." He replied condescendingly, "he had his eyes on you since you were a wee little one."

Tony squared her shoulders, took the remaining steps that separated them and punched him square in the nose, "We're done here." She snapped, forcing every fibre in her being to shut this living nightmare down and wake up.

Tony's eyes snapped open and she shoved herself into a sitting position: sweat dripping down her forehead, shivering from the fact that there would be a time when she would be a part of their world. She slowly got up, shuffling to the bathroom and stripped, letting her pyjamas litter the bathroom floor before stepping into the shower: hoping to wash away more than grime from the nightmare. She didn't even bother to care about what time it was, she was going to shower and pack up: she had already spent longer than necessary in this damned city.


	4. The Falsity of Hope

_**Disclaimer:**__ I do not own Supernatural or anything you recognize from it. In all honesty, I did not intend to finish this fic, I was going to leave it waning in the wind but for the lack of knowing what else to do with my free time, I decided to see this story through. (Help us all when I finally start writing Season Four)._

_Since I didn't reply to any of your reviews (very unlike me, so I must apologise and promise to do it from this chapter onward), __**I'd like to thank**__: SomebodyWhoCares, nickiR0x, Kage Fuschichou, Arathi.x, ChiyukiLuvs2Glomp, RudeAndNotGinger17, and Deedle2226 for all prompting me to write, this is admittedly for you. And thank you to the silent readers, thank you._

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><p><em><strong>T<strong>__here is no hope unmingled with fear, and no fear unmingled with hope.__ — __Baruch Spinoza_

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><p><strong>Chapter Four<strong>

**The Falsity of Hope Set in Motion by Ourselves**

Dean walked past the crying young woman, knowing his brother would comfort her and left the warehouse and the echoing cries of the distressed girl. He ran a hand over his face and idled around the entrance of the warehouse for Sam. He glanced around, taking in the smells and sounds of the chilled night air: it was nights like these that he missed having her around. He never told anyone and he sometimes even refused to admit it but he missed having her curled around him, cuddling as they both watched a film. He missed hearing her chatter as they all got ready for bed, or when she would wake him up by stuffing tissues in his nose…damn it. He missed her. Sometimes he felt like the ache inside him would subside and other times he woke up gagging from the bone deep grief.

He shoved his hands in his leather jacket's pockets to rid them of the chill and felt his phone. He shrugged, Sammy was taking so damn long, he might as well turn on his phone and check if he missed any calls. Sometimes Bobby would phone and leave long ass messages about things he procured from staying up all night reading. He ran a hand through his hair; he wasn't in the mood to listen to Bobby's gruff ramblings. He shook his head, trying to detach himself from the hollow mourning and swallowed hard when he saw that he had a message from an unknown caller. His heart began beating faster and louder, and a part of him didn't want to hope that it was her. What would she say now? Would he still be able to hear the deadness in her voice or how changed she sounded? He felt such mixed emotions that his fingers shook as he punched in his password to retrieve the voice message and brought his phone to his ear.

He swallowed down the guilt upon hearing her harassed voice, pain weaving its way into her words. He listened to the message five more times before saving it to his phone, how the hell did she know about Ruby? Not knowing what to do, he did the next best thing and dialled Bobby's number, "What, boy?"

Smirking at the gruffness in the other man's voice, he kicked a few rocks around awkwardly, "I just got a message on my phone." He heard Bobby drop something and curse and knew immediately that she had phoned the older hunter, "Tell me, Bobby." He quietly ordered.

The older hunter sighed, "I'm too old for this, Dean."

Dean sighed and rubbed his gritty eyes, "Just tell me, Bobby and we'll leave you alone to get some rest." He patronisingly said.

Bobby let the comment slide off him, "She phoned me and wanted to know about Ruby. I think she might be keeping tabs on you boys." He said proudly.

Dean felt a surge of hope: maybe she hadn't moved on and left them in her wake. If she was still keeping tabs on them, that meant she hadn't let them go and was still, in essence, with them…it was a mess but it made perfect sense to him. "I need a number, Bobby."

Bobby sighed, "I don't think she'd like it if I gave it to you."

"Bobby, please…for me." Dean quietly pleaded.

Bobby cursed long and hard before rattling off a number, "Boy…you know she's going to change her number and it's going to take me months for her to earn my trust again. Come back here and rest a while, at least." Bobby didn't bother mentioning the fact that they didn't have months to spare.

Dean ignored the stab of pain: time was something she didn't have, "I'll handle it." It was time he did something. He knew without even dialling the number that there was a slim possibility it was already disconnected. And if she heard from them, she'd probably get rid of the phone without hesitation. She was tricky but he couldn't have been prouder.

He heard shuffling and calmed his racing heart, "Everything good?" He asked his agitated brother.

Sam nodded, his mind focused on Ruby and if she had any other information to share, "Yeah, who were you talking to?" He asked absently, not bothering to hide the fact that he didn't really care.

Dean shrugged and opened the trunk of his Impala, he knew Sammy and right now, his brother was so focused elsewhere that he could mention her name a few times and his younger brother wouldn't even notice. "Just Bobby, guess we're going to pay him a visit." He effortlessly commented. He'd have to tell Sammy soon but that could wait until they made it to Bobby's.

He had no intentions of phoning her with his mobile, he was smart and tricky enough that he'd phone from Bobby's and she'd believe it was the old bastard. It was the only way they could contact her and she might be pissed at first, but she would just have to get over it. He would make sure of it.

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Tony scribbled a few notes on the yellow legal pad on the bed besides her and shoved a stale cookie in her mouth, her eyes still glued to the opened folder in front of her on the wrinkled sheets. The hunt she had just finished had been going swimmingly until the woman had reached out and clawed Tony's face: she had never hit a woman before in anger and she had no intentions of doing so again: regardless if she were possessed or not.

Something in Tony had shifted, morphed into something more reckless and darker than she had ever known. She couldn't remember a time when she was so self-destructive and apathetic. And even feeling the darkness shift within her didn't bother her anymore. She shoved the new case and cookies aside to go check on her scratches in the bathroom mirror and winced, they were horrible and red and oozing but they wouldn't scar…not that she really cared. Though in one way, it looked like a werewolf had slashed her across her face: it was slightly endearing…she shook her head in amusement. She might be reckless but she was still as silly as ever. All she cared about was that the bitch hadn't clawed out her eyes, with only a few months left, she wanted to see all of the demons' asses she kicked before going down with them.

She washed her hands and rubbed more ointment on the gashes, yawning hugely: not even bothering to move the cookies, she shoved everything aside and fell into the bed, covering herself in the musty, old blankets from the motel. She forced herself to turn her mind off: she didn't want to know when they had last washed everything. She left the lights on knowing she'd wake up and go straight back into researching the case and closed her sore eyes.

0000000000000000

"Don't slam the door." Dean ordered loudly to his annoyingly large brother.

"Whatever." Sam sighed, hoisting his duffel over his shoulder and trekked towards Bobby's house.

Bobby stepped onto the porch to welcome them with a flask of holy water, "You got here fast."

Dean shrugged, "Have things to do." He retorted, wiping his face dry from the holy water Bobby splashed on him.

"I need a shower." Sam muttered, leaving the two hunters on the porch.

"Well?" Bobby asked expectantly.

Dean shook his head; "Shower, food, and then I'll tell Sammy. He can phone her." He muttered, having no real intention of talking to her. He had nothing to say to her, regardless of the amount of personal growth he had done in the past few days. He would tell Sammy: his brother could handle the situation from there. He shoved past Bobby and went into the house, sighing in content: now he could relax and rest for a few days.

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"What? When were you going to tell me, Dean?" Sam shouted, slamming his mug on the kitchen table.

"Hey, calm down in there!" They heard Bobby shout from the next room over.

Dean rolled his eyes, "You were so busy with Ruby and I know you. You'd probably have jumped the shark. At least this way, we know that she's keeping tabs on us, we have her phone number and—"

Sam rolled his eyes, a part of him was raging at his brother: how dare he pull this kind of a stunt and only tell him just now? And the bigger part of him was screaming in happiness that he'd finally be able to talk to her again…

"Give me the number." He quietly ordered, walking towards Bobby's landline and waiting. Dean rattled it off and leaned against the kitchen table, seeing the slight tremble in Sammy's hands as his brother dialled the number.


	5. The Defeated

_**Disclaimer:**__ I do not own Supernatural or anything you recognize from it. Thank you all very much._

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><p><em><strong>W<strong>__here you used to be, there is a hole in the world, which I find myself constantly walking around in the daytime, and falling in at night. —Edna St. Vincent Millay_

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><p><strong>Chapter Five<strong>

**The Defeated**

Tony yawned and sat up, shaking the last vestiges of sleep from her eyes and smoothed down the covers, snagging a cookie from the sheets. She grabbed the case file and went to the kitchenette to make herself a cup of tea: she didn't know what time it was and she wanted to wake up slowly, ruling out the strong punch of coffee. She had drunk so much of the acrid, vile liquid that she bet there was a gaping hole in her stomach in consequence.

She swallowed down the gritty taste of the stale cookie and blew on the mug of tea, standing in the middle of the room like a fool. She rolled her eyes when she heard the annoying ringing from her mobile and snagged it from the kitchen table, recognizing Bobby's number.

"What do you want, Bobby?" She asked quietly, not in the mood to socialize. She wanted to gulp down her tea and get back to researching.

She recognized the hitch of the person catching their breath, her heart stopping in her chest, her hand relaxing itself against the handle of the mug: a piercing shattering sound resounded from the mug hitting the tiled floor. She didn't even flinch when she felt stinging from the hot liquid as it splattered all over her or how burningly warm her feet became as her socks absorbed the liquid. "Tony?"

She blinked, hanging up on Sam in a panic. She slowly revived from the tornado of confusion and became aware that her feet hurt and that Bobby had sold her out. "Damn it." She growled and stepped away from the shards of glass and pool of cooling tea, moving into the lounge area of her motel room.

Her phone began shrilling again and she stared down at the phone in her hand, there was no point in pretending to be busy. Her shoulders slumped: they had found her out. She would have to pick up a new phone and number after destroying this one. Ignoring the blinding rage she felt for Bobby and the piece of her mind she'd give him after her blood cooled, she hit the green button and brought the phone back to her ear hesitantly.

The decaying wilted garden within her blossomed when it heard Sam's voice: at least now she could die a happy woman. "Don't hang up." Sam said, speaking gently as though she were a terrified child.

She waited quietly, not knowing what to say: what could she possibly say to someone she loved more than she cared to admit? She ignored the way her stomach fluttered at his cooing voice or the urge to weep and drown herself in the yearning.

"You have nothing to say?" Sam asked, steel underlining his words.

She swallowed, "Stay away from demons and stop trying to break my deal." She huskily said, hearing an echo in the room: she was on speakerphone, damn it. Bobby must have upgraded his damn home phone and suddenly, she was filled with the urge to take apart Bobby's phone and house nail by nail with her bare hands.

She heard cursing and recognised Dean's voice in the background and the two brothers muttering amongst themselves, "No, I'm sorry but that's not good enough for me." Sam snapped.

Tony squared her shoulders, ignoring the burning she felt inside, "Just back off." She bit out lowly.

Sam snorted, she knew she had hurt him: she could hear it in his voice but she refused to feel remorse over something she _had_ to do, "So what? I live and you die?" He mockingly asked.

"Um…yeah." Why couldn't he grasp the damn concept?

She heard a noise and realized Dean was mocking her on the other end but he didn't have enough guts to do something about it. She felt the rage overtake the pain and for once, held onto it, letting it be her one comfort in a time of impending hell.

"You're such a fucking hypocrite, you know that? You saw what our dad's deal did to us…and now you're doing it to us again."

She opened her mouth to retort but realized what he had said was true: so painfully damn true, "I'm sorry that you see it that way." She said, unsure of where to go from that.

"What you did was selfish." Sam commented, her heart burning in her chest from the severity in his voice.

She rubbed a hand over her heart, "Yeah, so?"

"So? How can you be okay with this?" Sam snapped.

She growled, "Deal with it. What I did for you both, I think I'm entitled to be left alone and for all of you to stop trying to fuck with my deal."

"Tony—" Sam started.

She closed her eyes against the wash of emotions he incited by saying her name, "No, Sam…I'm tired. I mean, I feel so goddamn tired and for once, I see a light at the end of the tunnel. I feel better knowing that, Sam." She quietly confessed, sitting on the edge of the bed, her shoulders slumping in defeat.

"Its not a light, Tony, its hellfire." Sam muttered, she heard Dean snort and she closed her eyes, there was a time when he had been on her side and protected her against everything and everyone: even herself. It was startling to see how much they've all changed. How far apart they all were now.

"Can you please help her see reason, Dean?" Sam pleaded.

"I've got nothing to say to her." She heard Dean say.

She bit back a sob: she could always count on Dean to remind her of reality. "Fine. You're alive, Dean's alive and I'm going to live for however long I have left." She snapped.

"Without us." Sam retorted.

"Think of it as practice for an entire lifetime without me." She growled and hung up.

She got up, leaving the phone by the behind and blindly walked towards the bathroom, falling to her knees in front of the toilet in the coffin size bathroom, emptying her stomach's content in the porcelain bowl. She wrenched until she felt like she couldn't go on anymore and when the trembling subsided, she shoved herself into the shower, stripping out of her clothes before turning on the shower: making it hotter than hell. She braced herself against the grimy tiles and let the hot water clear her mind. At first she tried to fight back the anguished tears but soon, she succumbed to the loud hiccupping sobs and slid down to her knees, shaking badly. Just when she felt like she was fine, she was reminded she wasn't. When she thought she thought it couldn't hurt anymore, the stinging grew. And when she thought she had moved on, she fell back down again.

Some time later, she scooped up her clothes and threw them on the kitchen chair, grabbing her phone and ripping it apart before shattering it with her shotgun. It was stupid, but it was the only way she could gain back some of her composure.


	6. Fresh Blood Part I

_**Disclaimer:**__ I do not own Supernatural or anything you recognize from it. I don't want to bump up the rating just yet but since this is rated T, please be advised that there is swearing. If you are uncomfortable with it, I'll (of course) bump the rating up._

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><p><em><strong>T<strong>__here is an unseen life that dreams us. It knows our true direction and destiny. We can trust ourselves more than we realize and we need have no fear of change. —John O'Donohue_

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><p><strong>Chapter Six<strong>

**Fresh Blood Part One**

Tony glared at herself in front of the crowded club's bathroom mirror and ignored the buzz of the women around her. She didn't look half as bad as she always thought with blond hair, though to be perfectly honest, she didn't look that great either. With the amount of makeup she was wearing, enough to cover up any remnants of day old bruises from yet another hunt gone wrong, she looked the perfect bait: a hot mess that fit the attacker's MO.

After hearing Sam's voice, she had left the state in a flurry, deleting all traces of her and of course, buying yet another mobile phone. She had also haphazardly taken a hunt, almost broke three ribs and now found herself, two months later, standing in a crowded bathroom of an extremely loud bar as bait. She hadn't played bait in a while but with only eight months left, she was getting more desperate to bring as many monsters down with her as possible.

She shoved past a few inebriated laughing girls and pushed out of the bathroom, ignoring the line of women waiting to use the facilities, the peeling black paint on the walls of the hallway and pushed out the nearest exit. She inhaled the night air and closed her eyes briefly, enjoying the calm before the storm. It had been a while since she had broken down in the shower, falling to pieces from hearing Sam and Dean over the phone.

It had been a while since she had felt pain and gut wrenching anguish. But after breaking, she had forced herself to sew the pieces back together and since then, she could honestly say she was getting better. Sure, she still didn't eat and sleep, and she was rudder than hell when speaking to people but she didn't feel the residual sadness that lingered in her pores. She still felt moments of brief, debilitating sorrow but most of the time, she was so busy trying to find new monsters under people's beds that she forced herself not to be bothered by it all. That was during the day though, and at night? Well, she always had trouble sleeping and at night it was the hardest for her to move past the pain of the memories. But so far, she managed quite well and with only a few months left before the demons came calling, she wasn't a ghost walking around anymore. Of course there was something inherently missing, a loss felt so deep her marrow ached: but hunting kept her mind off rubbing at the wounds and that's as far as she could ever hope for.

Becoming a hunter had been borne out of necessity to survive and after all these years of trying to survive, she returned back into the arms of violence once again in necessity. In a way, it felt like crawling into bed after walking through a winter storm but she couldn't lie to herself and say it felt like coming home. Her home was with the brothers and it was something she could never go back to.

Tony glanced around the cobbled streets, blond women had been disappearing from nightclubs across the city and after the third one: she had grudgingly accepted the case from Bobby. Oh, she hadn't been happy to phone him but she figured with her short life span, keeping a grudge with the old bastard just wasn't right. He had hoarsely apologised and offered her a case to make it up to her. He knew she had been on a vampire spree after watching Blade for the twentieth time that week and she feigned annoyance and accepted: not wondering if there was a motive behind his action. So now she found herself in the middle of the night, standing in tight and revealing clothes that did more to show off her frail figure that belied her new attitude of moving past Dean and Sam than it did to show off her figure. She was wearing makeup thicker than plaster and a blond wig; overall, she thought she made great bait. Thank gods the brothers couldn't see her now, they'd be furious with the way she threw herself into this hunt with pretty much no research. So far, she had been approached by two men offering fun times but after realising they were harmless, if not a little over zealous, she kept up her routine of trying to look harmless and bored.

"Are you waiting for someone?"

Tony plastered on a small smile and thought of Sam, making sure the pounding of her heart was thundering in her chest. Vampires were predators above all else and it was something that had worked luring the other vampires she had killed weeks ago from their lair, it should work now as well. She turned and came face to face with a man that could have been in his late twenties or early thirties wearing a leather motorcycle jacket. She forced herself not to sneer; aside from trying too hard, if it were real life and Tony wasn't a hunter in some parallel universe, she _still _wouldn't fall for that line from a guy like him. But she was a hunter and this was her crummy ass job, "Not really, just…" She sighed feigning boredom.

He nodded, his eyes grazing over her features and he smiled harmlessly, "What to have some fun?"

Tony smiled brightly, and tried to soften her shoulders when the man draped his arm over her shoulders, "Where are we going?" She asked, letting herself be pulled away from the busy street.

"Well sweetie, think of it as going somewhere quiet for our own after party with ole' Steve here." He crooned in her ear. "What's your name, sweets?"

She bit back an icy retort and let her eyes graze over their surroundings, he had brought her to a dark, damp and very deserted alley. "Tiffany. What do you have in mind?"

"That's not important now, what is—is _this_." She faced him and watched interestedly as he reached into his jacket and pulled out a small vile.

She bit back the urge to reach for the weapon under her shirt and stared curiously at it: or as curious as one could be when one is fighting the urge to tear the monster apart with one's bare hands. "What's that? Is it any good?" She asked sceptically. Though to be perfectly honest, how the hell the other girls fell for that vial filled with a suspicious red colour that was obviously blood was beyond her. And that they willingly drank the blood somehow confused her even more.

"It's the best. And this high…will last for a _while._" He uncapped the lid and brought it slowly to her lips, too focused on her to notice her hand sliding behind her back and under her shirt.

"Get down!" Someone shouted knocking her away from the vampire and she fell to her knees, grunting in pain, the blond hair covering her face. She felt a warm body press next to hers and she turned sideways, with the intent to rip that person apart for screwing up her hunt when she found herself face to face with someone she honestly thought she would never see again. And for one crazy moment, she thought she was dead and imagining him. But he wasn't because after a full frozen minute, recognition flittered across his face and he visibly blanched, the sounds of someone beating up another person white noise to them both.

"Tony?" Sam asked breathlessly, hope warring with pain, still frozen in a crouch facing her. He slowly reached over and gently tugged the blond wig from her head, and despite everything, she let him have his way, ignoring the sharp pain from the pins holding the wig in place pulling at her scalp.

"Fuck." She snapped a full minute later, slightly dazed and too pissed off to think of anything else but ripping the machete from its holster under her shirt and tossing it to him when she noticed he was empty-handed. "Goddamn it." She growled, seeing the vampire flee from Dean around the corner of the alley.

"Dean." Sam said quietly, something in his voice warning enough for his brother because when Dean finally turned around, his eyes locked with hers instead of Sam's.

"Tony?" Dean asked incredulously, taking in her very changed appearance.

She ignored them both and ran after the vampire, ignoring the pounding of their footsteps right behind her. She refused to think of anything other than finding the vampire and killing it. After that, she'd make some excuse to leave them, find Bobby and kill him. The bastard was getting old anyway, might as well be his time.

Tony skidded around the corner and stopped dead in her tracks, Dean hitting her side by accident, and she knew regardless of the strain between them, he would have scolded her if the new blockade in the street hadn't stopped them. "Gordon?" She had enough time to ask before him and Kubrick, Gordon's old hunting partner, began firing bullets towards them from the middle of the dark street.

Sam pulled on Tony but she shoved him towards Dean, letting him pull Sam to safety behind a parked car adjacent to the other two hunters. "What the hell Gordon?" Tony snapped, shoving behind the car a second later. Her left arm hit Sam and she grunted, still trying to get a better vantage point of a very determined looking Gordon and Kubrick.

She found Sam and Dean staring at her instead, "Seriously? They're shooting at us and you want to hash this out now?"

Dean shrugged nonchalantly, and she ignored the surging hope that he hadn't punched her in the face yet, "I thought Gordon was still in jail."

"Obviously not." She retorted, rubbing her sore left arm.

"Tony, you're bleeding!" Sam grasped her bloodied right hand in both of his, trying to find a wound. She swallowed, uncomfortably aware that she was so cold and he was so warm and pulled her hand from his.

"Its not her hand, Sammy." Dean quietly said his eyes glued to her left arm.

Both her and Sam followed Dean's scowl and she cursed, "This is a brand-new coat." She muttered angrily, shoving Sam's hands away from her arm, "Damn it, Gordon. You fucking shot me!" She shouted angrily.

"Oops, I was trying to hit Sam." Gordon yelled back and she made up her mind then and there. She didn't sell her soul only for Gordon to come after Sam and she sure as hell knew this city would be their last battleground between the four of them. Gordon had to be taken down; she refused to leave until she knew Sam would be safe from the hunter.

"All right, you both run and I'll draw them off." She breathlessly said, the ache in her left arm demanding more attention. The rain of bullets stopped and she realised the two hunters were grabbing more ammunition.

"What? Hell no." Sam snapped about to reach for her.

Dean glared icily, "Over my dead body."

She rolled her eyes, she was expecting this and it was the reason why she had offered to play bait. One: she needed to take a look at her arm, two: she couldn't handle being around them any longer, and three: she was a dead woman; she was the perfect bait. She ignored their grapples to hold her back and darted past them, making sure to run right into the line of fire. She ignored the sounds of gunshots and the shouts from both brothers, focusing on nothing more than making a huge spectacle of running. She quickly jumped atop a car and leaped over the railing into a second story building, which she later found out to be a parking lot when she landed and hit her head on the trunk of a parked car.

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For the fiftieth time, Sam hit the television with his fist before continuing on his pacing. Dean rolled his eyes, watching his huge brother loop around their motel room and hit the television once again as he paced, "If you hit that one more time, I swear I'll shoot you myself." Dean snapped.

Sam ignored his bother's cantankerous glare and kept pacing, his hands deep in his jean pockets. Seeing Tony had almost given him a heart attack and then quickly the rage had set in. Not only had she set herself up to be bait but she had willingly let herself be dragged into a deserted alley way with a small machete as a weapon. Ignoring the fact that she had lost so much weight she was now lucky if she even weighed as much as her duffel probably did. Not accounting the fact that her eyes were so dead they looked almost black and the perpetually snarl around her lips: she looked like a rabid wolf attacking its own pack. Sam expelled an angry sigh; just thinking about it was riling him up all over again. He was worried about her and maybe that was why he was as angry as he was. He had expected to feel the anguish in his heart after seeing her and watching her run away from him again but instead, he was brimming with so much rage his hands were still shaking. He wanted to rip the entire city apart looking for her, for the first time in four months, he now knew where she was and it was killing him that they were in the same city and he wasn't out looking for her.

And for the fiftieth time that hour, Dean repeated the mantra when his brother shot him a glare. "Because if we go out there when you're like this, you're not only going to be dumb and desperate but very careless."

Dean stared down at the machete he had been sharpening in his hands in concentration. He had forced nonchalance all evening and into the early morning until after a while he realised he didn't even have to force it anymore. He felt _great. _At first seeing Tony, he had been so shocked he had almost fallen to his knees, and then the rage had come when he saw all of the nuances of grief and pain on her face but then acceptance and understanding had flourished. It was odd: he had expected Sam to feel the way he was feeling and for him to be as angry as Sam was. But he wasn't angry and he couldn't be bothered with trying to get angry. Sure, he still would love to shake some sense into her but he was slowly coming to grips with the fact that she had left them. Maybe seeing her again had made him realise that instead of being angry and hurt about her abandoning them, he should see it as a sign of how much she cares for them. It bugged him that she had slinked off with a fucking bullet in her arm but he was so damn proud of her, and happy that she was still trying to get by that he didn't care. A bullet wouldn't stop his Tony.

He sighed, it had been so long since he could finally think of her and say her name in his head without wanting to tear his heart out. Damn it, he missed her and out of everyone in her life, past and present: he probably was the only one that finally understood her actions. Sure, he still wasn't okay with them but he understood why she felt the need to sell her soul to save him and Sam. And maybe, just maybe he could get her to stick with them for the remainder of the time she had left.

"You think Bobby set us all up?" Sam asked through clenched teeth.

Dean glanced wryly at his brother, "Gee, you think?" He retorted.

Sam rolled his eyes and finally stopped his pacing, standing in the middle of the beige room in a huff, "Why? I mean, why now?" He asked his brother. "And how do you think Gordon found us?"

"You phone Bobby and find out why he set us up to meet her. I think I know who sold us out to Gordon." Dean cursed under his breath and pulled out his phone. Not only had Bela endangered Sammy's life but she had unknowingly endangered Tony's as well. And that was just something he couldn't take sitting down.

Sam watched his brother speak to Bela over the phone in a low and menacing voice and nodded, pulling out his own phone. Dean was smart enough not to mention Tony because at this point, she was their weakest link and if anyone knew that, they'd use her against them. For once, he was honest enough to admit he was bloodthirsty and not only did he want to take Gordon out but now Bela too. Oh, he wasn't only pissed that Bela had sold him and Dean out but putting Tony in the middle of it like this? He ground his jaw together and dialled Bobby's number, waiting impatiently, "Bobby." He began quietly, hearing the older man's breathing on the line. "I know you're there, so you might as well just say something."

"Damn it boy, watch who you're talking to." Bobby retorted.

"So, Tony…" Sam began waiting patiently.

Bobby sighed, "It's about time you three talked things through and stopped putting me between you all as a damn buffer. I ain't a damn buffer."

"Well, thanks to you we saw her. But then Gordon also tracked us down at the same time and shot her. So now we're all stuck in the same city, god knows where she is and Gordon is after all of us." Sam spelt out.

It took three minutes for Bobby's cursing to slow enough for him to grumble out, "Well I didn't plan that, so you can't blame it on me. I'll see how she's doing." Bobby said, hanging up before Sam could demand for her number.

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Tony ripped a long strip from towel and cursed when she felt the strain on her arm "Didn't think he would _actually shoot me_." Tony muttered to herself, standing in the middle of her motel's bathroom with only her pants and boots on. She glanced down at her left arm and sighed, it hadn't nicked her bone and thankfully, or at least as thankful as she could muster after being shot, it had exited out of the other side of her arm. "Passed right through me…damn it." She yelled more scared that she had a bullet hole in her arm than by being shot. At least now she could say she had been shot, stabbed, cut, burnt, had acid spat at her by some demonic bastard and still survived. But she had a _hole _in her arm! Even if it wasn't noticeable, it was still there. And she needed stiches. "Fucking great. Damn it, Gordon." She cursed once again, hearing her phone ring in the other room.

She recognised Bobby's number and knew even if she wanted to kill him, she shouldn't hold a grudge against him, despite his highhandedness with what he thought was right, "What do you want?"

"I thought you were going to play coy." Bobby muttered, slightly shocked she had answered on the second ring.

Tony mentally shrugged, "I don't see the point when I only have—"

"If you mention your death sentence one more time, I'll kill you myself." Bobby snapped, "Now damn it, how hurt are you? The boys are worrying so why don't you go and find them—"

She shook her head, "I need some time to cool off and heal. Then I'll get in contact with them and we'll figure shit out."

Things were a mess and for once, she was flabbergasted as to what to do. She knew one thing, everyone was expecting her to go off on her own and hunt Gordon by herself. But she wasn't stupid: it would be more logical if she teamed up for the last time with the Winchesters to get rid of Gordon. It was logical but it still made her heart hurt. She sighed angrily, not sure what to do anymore. First thing first: she had to stitch herself together. Then she could decide what the hell to do next.


	7. Fresh Blood Part II

_**Disclaimer:**__ I do not own Supernatural or anything you recognize from it._

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><p><em><strong>T<strong>__he world is round and the place, which may seem like the end may also be only the beginning. —Ivy Baker Priest_

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><p><strong>Chapter Seven<strong>

**Fresh Blood Part Two **

_One day later…_

Tony winced and stretched her arm again, ignoring the gut churning feeling of her skin pulling on her stitches in her left arm and repeated the stretch. It had taken her longer than she'd thought necessary to stich the wounds in her arm two nights ago and it had taken quite a few shots of vodka to numb everything to the point where she had finally stopped shaking. Her arm was sore and very tender so she had decided that stretching in the middle of her motel room wearing an oversized shirt and boots was a great idea. She ignored the fact that she had stolen the shirt from Sam and the boots from Dean when she had left them those months ago and continued to stretch. She glanced at the clock on the wall and winced, she hadn't slept in the past three days: too caught up in the adrenaline of tracking and hunting to realise just how tired she was. It was already nearing the afternoon and she still hadn't slept or eaten anything.

She glanced at her discarded phone sitting near her closed laptop on the bed, and was about to turn it on when her stomach grumbled and she mentally shrugged, she had no intention of putting pants on to forage the outside world for food when she had a perfectly good excuse to sleep. Nor did she have the energy to tell the Winchesters of her plan on uniting with them…at least until they hunted Gordon down. No, as far as she was concerned, everything else could wait. Tony sighed and shoved the mass of papers, pants, computer, phone, and stale cookies aside and fell onto the bed. The way she saw it, sleeping with boots on was very logical, especially when it made her feel safe and comforted by the fact that she was wearing their things. It was a crutch but at that point, she didn't even care.

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Dean unlocked the door to his and Sam's motel room, "I must have checked three dozen motels, two dozen hotels and there is absolutely no sign of her." Dean said, locking it shut behind him. He had gladly taken the errand to try and find Tony, as long as it meant fresh air for him to think. Both he and Sam had tracked down Gordon with Bela's help to a warehouse on the edge of town at yesterday's dusk, only to find the vampire Tony had been hunting crying near two headless female corpses. He had been enraged when he found out the vampire had been dumb enough to turn Gordon into one of them but he had been more worried when he realised that the missing fang Gordon had now become the Terminator. He had even tried to make a stupid Terminator joke with Sam to lighten the mood when they both had been in the safety of their motel room but Sam had just rolled his eyes. Sometimes he missed Tony's laughter; at least she appreciated his fine humour.

Bobby had phoned back two nights ago and told them quietly that she had been thinking of hunting Gordon down with them and both brothers had felt a surge of hope. But Bobby had torn their hope apart and mentioned that she wouldn't be staying with them after. Sam had stayed up brooding over his computer and he had gone a little stir-crazy himself. A part of him wanted to find her and make sure she was safe with his own eyes but he had much more worrisome things to think about. And they all began and ended with Gordon and his_ slight_ vampirism. "She's probably laying low." Dean commented. "I also checked three dozen warehouses and empty buildings for Gordon the vampire but nothing either."

Sam sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration, "It's a damn big city."

"Its like a freaking needle in the haystack and Gordon is this deadly needle. We're loosing daylight fast and soon we won't have the sun slowing him down." Dean called out from the bathroom, emerging a second later with his face-dripping wet.

Sam rolled his eyes, Dean had always made it a habit to never dry his face when he found out it annoyed Tony to no end. But now that she was gone, it had actually become a habit of his now. And it killed Sam every time his brother did it.

"Well, it's damn impossible. Give me your phone." Sam extended his hand and accepted his brother's phone, "If Gordon knows our cell numbers, he'll use the signal to track us down." Sam explained when Dean continued to squint at him. Sam hesitated for one split second, thinking if Tony would call them but he shook his head and dropped both his and Dean's phone on the floor. He knew she would take time to think and she should have received the email from Bobby by now about vampire Gordon. It wasn't his preferred way of telling her but he knew time was running out and Gordon especially was getting impatient. Hopefully she would read the message and hide. It killed him to think only of him and Dean now but she had made the decision for them all and for the first time ever, he was going to abide by it. He would find her but for this moment in time, Gordon was priority. He stood up and slammed his foot down on both of the phones, gaining a swift sense of satisfaction when a few minutes later, they were shattered into many, many pieces.

"Good thinking." Dean nodded and went to his duffel, rummaging around. "You stay here okay, Sammy?" Dean ordered.

"What?" Sam asked incredulously watching his brother arm himself with a machete. Tony's own machete lay on the table besides his very expensive laptop and a part of him was very worried that she was unarmed if she 'bumped' into Gordon. But she wouldn't be, she was a hunter…or at least he tried to remind himself of that.

Dean shrugged, "I'm going to hunt down Gordon." He said as if the answer were obvious.

Sam snorted, "Not alone, you're not."

"Sam, I don't need you to sign my permission slip, okay? He's after you, not me, and he's turbocharged. I want you to stay out of harm's way. I'll take care of it." Dean said putting down the machete and reaching for the Colt.

"You're not going after him alone, you'll get yourself killed." Sam reasoned.

"Just another day at the office." He retorted. "It's a massively dangerous day at the office." He quietly muttered to himself. "And its better if I go after him then if Tony gets caught in the crosswire. And how long is she going to think it through? It's better if I go myself. Keep you and her safe." Dean shrugged.

"So wait, you're going to go and put yourself on the line to try and make up for the fact that Tony beat you to the deal?" Sam snapped seeing the bigger picture to Dean's cavalier act.

Dean shrugged, not bothering to deny any of it, "If the shoe fits."

"Dean, stop trying to be funny and stop trying to prove yourself or whatever the hell you think you're doing. Tony sold her soul and beat you to it. Stop with this sick contest." Sam shouted for once beating Dean to the yelling match.

Dean blinked but kept frowning, "I'm your older brother, Sammy. Its my job to take care of you!"

"No, Dean. Its my job to take care of myself." Sam retorted.

"What do you want me to do, Sam? You want me to write shitty sad poems about how much I miss her? Or that I'm elated you're not going to die and then get pissed at myself because that means she's going to die instead? What do you want from me, Sammy?" Dean snapped.

"I want you to stop pretending you're okay. We're all screwed, Dean and we're all not okay. So stop trying to act like you're fine and you're tough and that you aren't bothered by it all. Stop putting yourself on the line just to prove to yourself over something no one cares about." Sam quietly said.

Dean blinked, annoyance-fuelling anger when he realised his brother had found him out, "And just how do you think you know this?"

"Because I've been following you around my entire life, Dean! I've been looking up to you since I was four: studying you, trying to be just like you. So yeah, I know you. I know you better than anyone else in this entire world. And this is exactly how you act when you're scared and hurt. But I don't blame you, it's just…"

"What?" Dean asked quietly, staring his brother and ignoring the tears in Sam's eyes.

"I just wish you'd drop the show and be my brother again. I don't what to lose you too." He quietly said.

Dean stared at Sam for a full minute, trying to control his own tears from falling before placing the Colt back onto the table beside Tony's machete, "All right. We'll hole up here and wait the night out. Cover our scent so he won't track us and hope that Tony is doing the same."

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Tony yawned and turned on her left side, waking up with a cry when she felt the shooting pain flutter from her arm. She had forgotten about her gunshot wound but that hadn't kept her up until she decided to roll around on the bed. She opened her eyes and met the inky darkness; she must have slept into the late evening with the way her motel room was shrouded. She was very groggy but nothing a good cold shower couldn't cure—

"Sorry about shooting you, I meant to hit Sam."

Tony swallowed, hearing Gordon's dark voice emanate from the shadows all around her. She tried to slow her breathing and calm her erratic beating heart to try and hear where his voice was coming from but it was no use. He was as silent as the shadows. She nodded, more to herself than anything, "Of course you did. I would ask how you found me but…" She forced herself to sound light and conversational but inside she was screaming, her hands fisted under the covers. She would rather face a very pissed off demon, a starved vampire, and an annoyed ghost all at once than face Gordon in the dark. Wearing nothing more than a long shirt and boots. If she thought about it, sometimes it scared her to remember that she had first started hunting with Gordon, that he had been the foundation of her early hunting life. But things had changed—_they _had changed. Tony shrugged into the darkness, "If you could give me a few minutes to compose myself before you and Burke torture me." She was going to be nonchalant even if it killed her.

"Burke's dead." Gordon quietly answered, "So if you don't mind, I kind of want to finish this up before I end myself too."

Tony frowned, ignoring the slight sadness in his voice: what the hell was he talking about? "Why did you kill Burke? Did he get in your way?"

"You could say that. He wouldn't let me do one good thing before he wanted to kill me." Gordon explained and if it weren't for their talking about killing, they could easily have been talking about flowers.

"And why is that?" She asked wishing she had her gun or machete or an entire army.

Tony felt a slight movement in the air before being shoved back onto the bed, Gordon lying on top of her, "Because I'm a monster, Tony." He quietly said and she swallowed, staring into his bloody eyes.

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"You don't think she's going to go after him do you?" Sam asked quietly, grasping her machete in his hands. It was stupid but holding something that belonged to her made her presence more concrete than just a figment of his imagination. When she had left, she had taken everything of hers and anything that would remind them of her; he had been dumbstruck by how clever she was. That by somehow removing all traces of her, the brothers could somehow forget about her existence and later write it off as a long dream. But both him and Dean weren't like that. Even when Dean had refused to acknowledge her presence, he still caught his older brother smiling fondly at a Twix chocolate bar or at the television when a certain movie came on. At the end of the day, it was because of her that both he and Dean had come alive. And both of them could never forget her, even if they tried.

Dean sighed, glancing around the dimly lit motel room they had barricaded themselves into and tightened his fists around his own machete. It had been a few hours since he had decided not to leave Sam alone and hunt Gordon down himself. And in those hours he had imagined every possible scenario of Tony facing Gordon by herself. And after every scenario, Dean was swamped with such self-loathing and guilt, at times he barely could breathe. He hated that both he and Sam had destroyed their old phones and only Bobby had their new number. A part of him just wished she would phone Bobby and let them all know she was okay but she wouldn't. It killed him to admit just how close their personalities were. He was running on blind hope and not wanting to worry Sam any more than necessary, he opted for casual composure. "I think she's smart enough to know the difference between a fair fight and a suicide mission."

Sam nodded; maybe they weren't giving her enough credit. Maybe she had read Bobby's email and had disappeared; she always was the logical one out of them all. It was why she was such a great hunter. He nodded to himself; he would try and not worry or imagine any more horrible scenarios of her fighting Gordon. She was smart and she would stick to her word about waiting to finish this fight with them. One thing could be said about Tony and it was that she always stuck by her word.

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Despite the constant burning radiating from her left arm, Tony fought against the binds around her wrists. It physically pained her to admit that Gordon had ripped one of her old t-shirts to tie her hands behind her back with: her _own_ shirt. Ugh, a part of her was happy she was alone in the dark room with him and the Winchesters' weren't around. Because it was embarrassing, even for her.

She blinked past the acrid stinging of blood in her eyes from the gash on her forehead and struggled, trying desperately to get to her knees. Fighting Gordon had always been a challenge but now that she was fighting a vamped up Gordon: it was a wonder he hadn't snapped her neck by accident yet. Oh, she had sustained enough injuries just from his displeasure to last a lifetime and the fact that he wasn't even trying made her jaw clench. Gordon hadn't even bothered to be ceremonious about her torture; he had simply thrown her off the bed and beaten her until she had lost consciousness. And so she found herself, gods know how long with her hands tied behind her back and her face smashed against the motel's mouldy carpet. Her feet weren't even bound and yet, she couldn't move more than a centimeter without wanting to succumb back to the sweet oblivion free from the physical agony.

"I know you're awake." She heard Gordon's slow drawl behind her somewhere in the damned dark room.

She ignored the graceless position of her butt in the air as she forced herself to her knees, wavering like a newborn taking its first step, "Will you give me a second? I feel like a went a round with a bulldozer." She muttered, spitting blood from her mouth and thanked her lucky stars she hadn't lost a tooth.

"All I want is Dean or Sam's phone number. It's not that hard of a request." Gordon commented.

Tony slowly stood, ignoring the fact that it took her near five minutes to do so and the fact that Gordon hadn't stopped her. He was placating her and giving her a sense of freedom before he would knock her back down. But she ignored the pragmatic voice in her head: she would _not_ give in to him. If she hadn't succumbed to the shock of finding out Gordon was now a vampire, she sure as hell would not succumb to handing out Dean and Sam's phone number. And for what seemed like the tenth time that evening, she mentally high-fived herself for not adding Dean and Sam to her contacts in her mobile phone. Even if Gordon somehow managed to vamp his way into talking to Dean or Sam, at least she knew she hadn't made it easy on him.

"I…would rather…eat shit." She wheezed knowing she had a few cracked ribs thanks to him.

"Well, I don't know about shit—" Gordon mocked.

She turned her head and found herself face-to-face with a very pissed vampire, "I told you. Stop wasting all of our time and just kill me." She snapped, making a move. She didn't care if Gordon had somehow sensed her impending attack or that he could easily overpower her: she was going to fight, even if she went down, she'd go down swinging. She managed to head-butt his nose and felt a surge of pride when she heard a loud crack before searing white heat blinded her and she fell backwards, unconscious once again.

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Both brothers were ripped from their thoughts by a high-pitched ringing and Sam rolled his eyes, "You've had this phone for three hours, Dean. Who'd you give the number to?" He asked, a slither of hope igniting in both their eyes when they realised it could be Tony. He began to list all the apologies he would say to her when he saw her next: he would apologise about doubting her word, about wanting to shake some sense into her for making them worry—

Dean shrugged, "Hello?" Dean asked politely, not at all like his usual phone persona. Even Sam was taken aback for a few seconds, Dean almost sounded…polite. Sam smirked to himself; Tony had a way of affecting Dean—

"How'd you get this number?" Dean asked sharply and glanced at Sam.

Sam swallowed and ran a hand through his hair, it wasn't Tony and it sure as hell was someone Dean hadn't been expecting to hear from. He ran through the possibilities and decided if it were Bela, he would at least make a rude joke. That left—Sam's heart thundered in his chest and he stared stonily at Dean in anticipation.

Dean hit the small green button on the keypad and instantly the call came through the speaker from his phone, "—s_cents all over the cell phone store."_ Sam swallowed, recognising Gordon's slow drawl. He frowned as the worry grew and glanced at Dean, seeing the worry cast shadows on his older brother's face. _ "Where are you?"_

"I guess you're just going to have to find us now." Dean retorted, keeping a firm grasp on his worry and rage.

"_I thought an old acquaintance would help me but she seems—uninterested and disappointingly reluctant." _

Dean glanced at Sam but shook his head when Sam made a movement to stand, they weren't sure if Gordon meant Tony and they sure as hell had no concrete proof that he had her. He couldn't risk Sammy running into what obviously was a set-up. He felt the rage begin to simmer in his veins and he wasn't too sure if he was angrier with Gordon for fucking with them or Tony for lying and hunting him down herself. Either way, he was going to beat someone up tonight. It was as simple as that. Dean snorted derisively and glanced worriedly at a pale Sammy, "Don't screw around, Gordon. Just come and get us. We're sitting here and very bored." Dean sneered ignoring the worry that threatened to push him over the edge.

"_Oh, I'm done playing. I'm sure Tony has had enough of the games too."_

Sam slowly stood, gripping the machete in his hands and swallowed audibly, wanting to curse Gordon until he lost his voice but Dean shook his head silencing him. "See? No wonder you have no friends. It's not nice to hurt your old buddies, Gordon." Dean mocked. If he could somehow pretend the screaming in his brain or the agony ripping through his heart didn't matter, he would be fine. But the way Sammy was holding onto Tony's machete, tears forming in his eyes, or the way Gordon sounded so pleased with himself: damn it all to hell! And damn Tony for putting him in yet another horrible situation.

"_Come on, Holloway, say hi to your little friends for me."_ Gordon bit out, a slight fumbling on his end, _"Oh, you're going to play coy now?"_

Sam shook his head, ignoring Dean's look of censure when he grabbed the phone away from him, "Gordon, this is between you and me. Leave everyone else out of it."

A laugh emanated from the telephone, _"It's too late for that Sammy. Every war has it casualties and tonight, Tony is going to be one of them."_

Dean stood up to join Sam, wanting to grab the phone from his little brother and yell at the top of his lungs: he needed to hear Tony to make sure she was okay but at the same time, he was so damn proud of her for not playing into Gordon's sick games.

"_Scream for them, Holloway." _Gordon bit out and in the next second, a quiet whimper emanated from the phone.

Dean locked his knees and clenched his jaw, forcing himself not to react to her pained moan. It would only entertain Gordon if he shouted and threated the bastard, and he had no intention of saying anything until he got his rage back under control.

Sam fell into the chair and ran a shaking hand over his face. He wanted to croon and tell Tony it would be okay but he wouldn't say anything in front of Gordon. What they shared was between the Winchesters and her. "I swear to god Gordon, I will make you pay for this."


	8. Fresh Blood Part III

_**Disclaimer:**__ I do not own Supernatural or anything you recognize from it. __**Please Enjoy and please review!**_

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><p><em><strong>T<strong>__houghts are the shadows of our feelings—always darker, emptier and simpler." —Friedrich Nietzsche_

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><p><strong>Chapter Eight<strong>

**Fresh Blood Part Three**

Tony woke with a groan, forcing her screaming eyes open, "I'm really starting to hate you, Gordon." She muttered not bothering to clear her hoarse throat. She tried rubbing her aching lower back but stopped short when she realised her hands were tied to a pole above her head. "Seriously?" She groaned glancing around her absorbing everything in. She began cursing and fighting her bound wrists when she realised she was tied to a steam pipe in a warehouse.

The brothers were coming.

She knew it in her marrow and she also knew this rundown warehouse would become a battlefield. She just hoped the Winchesters would make it out alive. She leaned forward, trying to tear the rope in two, feeling the stitches in her arm tear wider, her shoulder joints straining before relenting when she saw stars in her peripherals. It was no use. The only way she could get out of this predicament was with a machete and currently: Sam was safeguarding it for her. She leaned back against the large pipe and closed her eyes; she had all the time in the world and keeping her eyes open felt like someone was pouring acid into them.

Settling against the pipe into a more comfortable position, Tony thought back to a few days ago. Before being kidnapped and tortured and back to when she had been seriously considering hunting Gordon down with the two brothers. But so many things had gotten in the way. They hadn't told her about Gordon vamping out and they were probably cursing her thinking she had gone after her old partner without either of them. She sighed; it felt as though there was a river between them and the more time they spent away from each other, the larger the river grew. It came to a point that it wasn't so much that they had changed but had been forced to adapt under the loss. They were all so different because of her actions of selling her soul and running away but she couldn't regret it. She just couldn't.

She could say with a hundred percent certainty that she didn't regret selling her soul for Dean and especially for Sam. But sitting alone in the darkened and eerily quiet warehouse, she could finally admit to herself that she was scared. Oh, she put on a farce, which was for sure. Never stopping to think, just fighting demons and passing through states: it was a nomad's life but it worked for her these past months. The busier she became, the easier it was to lie to herself. But she was scared of going to hell and facing the very demons she had exorcised, terrified of what they were planning to do to her. She shuddered and fought back the urge to scream; if given the chance, she would sell her soul all over again. But she wouldn't be so quick to run from the Winchesters the second time around. Nothing could be changed now but in an alternate reality, maybe she could have stayed around for a few weeks before hightailing it. At least to ease the stomach-dropping loneliness for a while.

Tony straightened and pried her eyes open hearing the echoed footsteps of both Dean and Sam and once again cursed Gordon. She would give anything for a pair of pants or a coat or even a bra. It was physically paining her that she would be saved by the Winchesters wearing nothing more than Dean's boots and Sam's oversized shirt.

"Tony? Oh god, Tony."

"What the fuck did he do to you?"

She forced Sam's soft worried voice away and focused on Dean's much angrier one. She refused to cry in front of them, ignoring the fact that she wasn't really sure her beaten up eyes would permit any tears. "Why did you come?" She asked flinching against Sam's hands when he touched her very tender wrists.

Dean surveyed all of Tony's wounds once again and had to force himself to calm down. Charging idiotically after Gordon was something the vampire wanted and he'd be damned if he would play any more games with the monster. He shrugged out of his coat and draped it over her bloodied shirt: one he immediately recognised as Sammy's. But he didn't say anything, now was not the time for semantics. But after, when they were done with Gordon, he was going to give her hell for taking it. For three weeks he had to hear Sam complain that he had lost one of his brother's favourite shirts. _Three goddamn weeks._

"To save you from being vampire bait." Sam snapped, still focused on untying the damn thick ropes from her bloodied wrists. He didn't focus on her scraped knees and cut up thighs, or her bloodied arms, bruised face, or the fact that she was wearing Dean's favourite boots. The same pair that Dean had accused him of throwing out. He had to hear about it for one damned month. _One damn month._

"Why aren't you wearing pants?" He asked trying to calm down but when he realised aside from the jacket Dean covered her with, she was wearing one article of clothing and nothing else, and just thinking about her facing Gordon almost naked made him angry all over again. He focused on his fingers and tried to quell their trembling long enough to untie the ropes.

Dean frowned, "Is that how you get your kicks now?" He snapped wishing he could lock her up in his trunk forever.

Tony ignored the quiet rage emanating from Sam and the dark glares Dean bore into her and instead, tried for civility, which was severely lacking from those two, "He hunted me down. I didn't go after him."

"Of course we know that. Now shut up and let Sam untie you." Dean bit out, his attention focused on her bloodied face.

Tony studied him and shook her head to herself, she knew they were lying but she didn't care. For once, she remained quiet and let the brothers do all the work. "Okay, I'll carry her, and you cover us." Sam ordered to his brother. "Can you hold this for me?" He quietly asked her, nodding to the machete in his hand.

She rolled her eyes and grabbed it with her right hand, "I'm hurt, not feeble." Dean snorted and she glared at him, "I think I preferred you ignoring me." She snapped.

Dean grinned, "Deal with it." He missed cranky Tony more than anything else. And despite the circumstances, he felt the rightness of them being reunited shift into place.

She bit down on her tongue when Sam's hand brushed her very sore ribs, she wouldn't make a noise or give her wounds away, he was already trying to be very careful with her. She wrapped her right arm around his neck and held the machete close to her heart with her left, "Thank you for coming." She said quietly, staring everywhere except in his direction.

Sam glanced down at her and smiled to himself, she tried to remain so unaffected but he knew. He knew her more than she knew herself and he knew she was trying desperately not to touch or even look at him more than necessary. He also saw the suppressed flinch she had tried to hide when he grazed her side but he forced himself not to react. There was still time after hunting Gordon down to take her to the hospital.

"If you weren't so set on dying by your own recklessness, I'd kill you myself." Dean commented breaking the silence that had befallen them.

Sam scoffed at his brother, "Take the damn lead and leave her alone." He quipped quietly.

Dean rolled his eyes and moved ahead of Sam carrying Tony; he had hoped his sarcastic comment would jar her out but instead she stared blankly ahead into nothing. He didn't want her to succumb to the shock of her wounds until they had time to take her to the hospital. She hated the hospital just as much as he did but this time, no amount of bemoaning on her side would sway him. Plus, secretly he would get a small amount of satisfaction at his revenge. Okay, more than a small amount. "Why'd you go after Gordon alone, Timmy?"

Tony frowned and pulled herself out of the calming lull that had numbed the pain and growled, "I didn't go after him, Olga. I was going to wait another day for my arm to heal a little more before coming to see you both." She snapped. She was in pain and the last thing she wanted to do was have a conversation with a smug looking bastard, one who grew even smugger when she used his old nickname. Damn it, she had to remain aloof.

Sam glanced down at the arm she was cradling, "Did the bullet nick the bone?"

She shook her head, staring at the jacket she was wearing. She smirked to herself; she had no intentions of giving Dean his leather jacket back, "Nope, went in and out. But Gordon thought it'd be fun to rip the stitches and play with it." She shuddered realising she wasn't as cold as she had been before they came and helped her. Though the leather jacket helped, it was the fact that Sam was holding her and one of his hands was on her thighs. She glanced up, feeling the warmth of his gaze and her breath caught painfully in her chest. Sam stared down intensely at her, a fire burning in his gaze. She recognised the heat and swallowed, it was the same look he gave her before he kissed her hungrily or would whisper how much he loved her. Despite her resolve to remain unaffected, tears formed in her eyes and slid down her cheeks. "No, Sam. I can't do this anymore, I can't do this to you." She whispered.

Sam clenched his jaw, if she loved him so much to leave, why couldn't she stay with him? "We'll talk about this—" Sam was cut off by a metal wall sliding down from the low ceiling, separating Dean from him and Tony.

"Dean!" Sam shouted.

Tony wiggled out of Sam's arms and moved towards the metal wall, seeing it shake and thunder from Dean's kicks. A loud click resonated through their part of the empty warehouse a minute before darkness fell, "This isn't playing fair, Gordon." She yelled, reaching blindly for Sam.

Sam grasped her hand and brought it to the back of his coat, like they had done so many times before. "Hold onto me like old times." He quietly said over his shoulder and moved to take the lead. She felt a slither of déjà vu and remembered the first time she had ever grabbed his jacket like this: it was when they had done a walk through in a haunted house at a carnival. Shortly after he had confessed his love to her. She shook her head, reminiscing was _not_ helping.

Tony swallowed, thankful he couldn't see the blatant yearning on her face and grasped the back of his jacket with her right hand, "Take my machete." She whispered and nudged him until he took it from her.

"What if he gets through me?" Sam retorted.

"He won't get through you with that thing." She quipped quietly.

"Gordon, you got me where you want me. Might as well come out and fight." Sam shouted.

"I'm right here, Sam." Gordon said from behind Tony.

She bit her bloodied split lip to keep from shouting and let Sam shove her to his side, "Damn it." He muttered facing nothing but darkness.

Gordon laughed from somewhere near them, "So, this is the way you want to do it?" Sam snapped hating the fact that he and Tony were blinded by the darkness with only one weapon amongst them against a fang Gordon.

"Damn right I do." Gordon snapped. "You have no idea what I faced, I lost everything. My life…my purpose…but it's worth it because I'm finally going to kill the most dangerous thing I've ever hunted. You're not human, Sam."

Tony flinched against Gordon's all encompassing voice and tightened her grip Sam's jacket, "He's more human than you ever were." She snapped.

Sam pushed her behind him and knew if she could see his face, he'd be frowning reproachfully at her, "Tony's right. I'm just a blood thirsty killer." Gordon commented from somewhere near Sam.

"Don't talk about it like you have a choice." Sam quipped, lunging forward but hitting nothing but air.

"I don't."

"Yes you do, Gordon. You didn't kill Tony even though you could have." Sam reasoned.

Tony rolled her eyes, "No, but with the injuries she sustained, I wouldn't be surprised if she didn't survive through the night." Gordon quietly replied, his voice deepening, "It's hard to breathe, right Holloway? And you keep spitting up blood every few minutes? How is your arm, I can smell that it's still bleeding." Gordon mocked.

Tony shivered, feeling the heavy cloak of his voice almost choke her senses, "Do you think I'm going to let you take me down?" She snapped, hating the fact that her vision was wavering and the only reason she remained upright was by sheer determination.

"I've got to hand it to you, Sammy. You've got a lot of people fooled. But see, I know the truth. I know what it's like. We're the same now, you and me. I know how it is walking around with something evil inside you. It's just too bad that you won't do the right thing and kill yourself. I'm gone, as soon as I'm done with you. Two last good deeds. Killing you and then killing myself." Gordon growled.

Sam reached over about to shove Tony behind him against the wall when something slammed into him and knocked him back with such force the wall broke and he landed heavily on the cement floor, a growling Gordon on top of him. Tony stood there for a few long seconds watching as Gordon lifted Sam and threw him against the metal bookcase before catching her breath long enough to attack.

Dean shoved her out of the way and threw himself at Gordon, trying to wrestle the vampire to the ground. She stood straighter and glanced around her, hoping to find a weapon or anything but both Dean and Sam had come prepared, and she was left standing there in a jacket, shirt and boots. Gordon shrugged Dean off and threw him against the wall beside her; he growled and stalked towards a fallen Dean. Tony swallowed and despite knowing that if she were killed, she would be going to hell, did the only thing she could do to save Dean from having his neck chewed by an angry fang Gordon. She threw herself against Gordon and grunted against the pain, punching and trying to gouge his eyes out, he growled and slammed her against the wall, pulling her head to the side to bare her neck.

"Gordon…no…" Dean growled fighting against the growing nausea of having a concussion from being thrown against the wall and tried to stand. He didn't make it very far before dry heaving, his eyes watering not from pain but from the realisation that he couldn't save Tony from a hungry vampire. "Sammy!" He hoarsely yelled, trying to jar his brother from the metal ruins of the bookcase. He tried once again to kneel but faltered and landed back on his stomach.

Gordon bit into Tony's neck and she closed her eyes against the pain, a scream stuck in her throat. The feeling of something chewing and sucking on the wound was something she hoped to never feel again and all she wanted to do was scream against the pain and the nauseating sensation but she wouldn't give the bastard the satisfaction. Not when both brothers were there.

"No." Sam shouted and pushed himself from the ruins, the rage from seeing Tony squirm against the feeding Gordon, giving him the adrenaline to punch Gordon at the back of the neck. Gordon buckled and dropped Tony, recovering and throwing himself at Sam.

She landed on her side near Dean and smiled palely at him in reassurance. The amount of blood she had lost from the wounds and now having a few more drops being sucked from her, it was no wonder she was fighting to stay awake. Dean pushed himself into a sitting position and tried moving towards her but she rolled her eyes, "Don't tell me you're worried about me, Tiny Tina." She quipped quietly.

Dean smirked worriedly at her, ignoring the fact that she was covered in cuts and blood, she was paling fast and he knew she would be unconscious very soon, "Help Sam." She said quietly.

He shook his head but glanced at his brother fighting Gordon and he swallowed, watching Sam wrap metal barbwire around Gordon's neck. "That's my boy." He said quietly and glanced over at Tony to tell her how proud he was of both Sam and her when he encountered blood-soaked empty space. "Goddamn it." He bit out, forcing himself to fight the nausea and stand on his feet. Sam was handling himself; he needed to find the stupid woman that thought it was a good idea to make a run for it when she obviously needed serious medical attention.

He heard a sickening wet sound and glanced over at his brother shoving a headless Gordon away from him with a disgusted look on his face, "Well, look at that. Sammy beheaded Gordon without a weapon. A little reckless, don't you think?" Dean asked nonchalantly, letting the rage from a wounded Tony running away seep from him. Little did anyone know, he knew that he had left his phone and something else in his jacket on purpose, one of which would make it exceptionally easy to track her.

Sam dropped the bloody barbed wire from his cut hands and glanced around, "Tony." He called out, "is she okay? Where is she? Is she waiting in the car?" He asked glancing around.

Dean shook his head, "You just beheaded Gordon, I have a concussion by the way, thanks for asking and you're only worry is for Tony?"

"Uh, yeah." Sam said, realising Tony wasn't in the near vicinity.

"She's not waiting in the car, Sammy." Dean quietly said, limping towards his brother.

"Damn it." Sam shouted.

"By now she's probably in a taxi."

Sam took a step towards the door, but encountered Dean, "Let me go, Dean. I have to go after her."

Dean shook his head and nodded to the body and head, "We have to clean up, you have to clean and bandage your hands, and then we can hunt her down." Sam shook his head, "Trust me on this, Sammy. You think I'd let her take my jacket and run?"

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"Are you sure you're going to be okay, ma'am?" The taxi driver asked for the tenth time since picking her up at the side of the road.

Tony forced her eyes open, "Miss. Not ma'am. I'm not that old." She commented before continuing the counting in her head. If she stopped counting, she knew she would succumb to the crashing waves of unconsciousness and gods knew what would happen to her then. No, she had to keep fighting, she lasted this long. She ignored the depraved hunger in the pit of her stomach that could only be satiated with the presence of Dean and especially Sam and held onto the fighting need to survive.

Running away wounded was stupid…it was beyond stupid but she knew if she let them take care of her, they gladly would and it was something she couldn't afford to do. She had doubts she could survive them and being with them, she'd have to face the one truth she'd been running from. She'd have to face the fact that if she stayed with them, she'd start to believe she could be saved. And she couldn't believe in something so hopelessly gut-wrenching.


	9. A Fool's Remedy

_**Disclaimer:**__ I do not own Supernatural or anything you recognize from it. Thank you to every single one of you, especially the reviewers. This chapter is for you. Please enjoy and please Review!_

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><p><em><strong>W<strong>__here we love is home, Home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts. —Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr._

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><p><strong>Chapter Nine<strong>

**A Fool's Remedy**

Dean slammed Sam's laptop shut and shoved it away from him, "What were you doing with my computer?" Sam asked suspiciously, towel drying his hair. He stepped out from the fog-clogged bathroom and into the foyer part of their motel room. "If you're looking at that 'busty-Asians' site so help me god, Dean."

His older brother rolled his eyes, "I don't know what to tell you, Sammy. I'm hooked." He grinned cheekily and took a huge bite from his cold hamburger.

Sam stared at Dean for a full minute before turning around and snagging his clothes on his bed, "Has Bobby heard from her yet?" He asked trying to remind himself why he had listened to Dean in the first place and not hunted Tony down immediately.

Dean swallowed and thanked his lucky stars his brother wasn't facing him, it had already been a day and a half since Tony had snuck away and he still didn't know how to break the truth to Sam. He must have remained silent for too long because this time, Sam did turn around to scrutinise him, "What aren't you telling me, Dean?"

Dropping his hamburger on the paper plate, Dean pushed away from the table and began pacing, "Jesus, put boxers on at least." He snapped waiting for Sam to comply. "You remember her wearing your favourite shirt and my boots, right?" He began waiting for Sam to apologise.

His brother shrugged, "I accept your apology. I didn't know she had taken my shirt."

Dean sputtered, glaring at his brother, "What the hell are you talking about? You owe _me_ the apology for freaking out—"

Sam sighed, "Okay, we're both sorry for acting like children…even though you whined for an entire month over those stupid boots."

"Was that an apology? Because you suck at it. You were the one crying over a shirt for three months…a shirt! At least my boots were more expensive—"

Sam lifted a hand off, "We're both sorry!"

Dean nodded, "Though I'm really not." He muttered to himself.

Sam propped himself on the edge of his bed and crossed his arms, ignoring Dean's snide comment, "It pisses me off that it was all she was wearing when Gordon took her."

Dean shrugged and ran a hand through his dishevelled hair, "So when I found out she was going to hunt with us to take Gordon down, I stopped at the…store to pick something up."

"What are you trying to say, Dean? Just spit it out! This is the first time you're tongue-tied and it's annoying." Sam snapped.

"I bought a tracking device and left it in my jacket." Dean shouted, finally relieved he had gotten everything off his chest, "And I've been tracking her progress on your computer when you're not around."

Sam clenched his jaw, "So…you're telling me this now?" He growled, shoving past Dean and stalking towards the door, "We're leaving now!"

Dean stood in the middle of the room biting the inside of his cheek, "Sammy…you forgot your pants!" He shouted after his brother.

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"I can't believe it took you this long to tell me." Sam said for the twentieth time that afternoon.

Dean rolled his eyes, "You whine more than Tony." He drily commented, parking his baby carefully. After packing, both brothers had left the city in a flurry and followed Tony's trail. It both worried and pleased him that Tony had only been a few hours away: she must have been too hurt to travel far but he was thankful she hadn't gone to the ends of the earth.

"Whatever." Sam grunted unbuckling his seatbelt.

"Now remember, we don't know if she's still here or not. She could have ditched the jacket and left." Dean reasoned wishing his heart wouldn't be filled with so much hope. They shared a look and slowly walked towards the door marked with the number thirty-six; hunting with them for so long must have rubbed off on her because as per usual, she chose the room farthest away from the office and deserted pool.

"Maybe she was smart enough to take herself to the hospital." Dean quietly said but shrugged when Sam shot him an exasperated look, "I know, what was I thinking? Of course she's not that smart."

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Tony felt a flutter on her lips and groaned, gasping awake when she felt the painful strain on her ribs. "What the fuck?" She muttered prying the uninjured eye open and died.

She moved her head around and blinked, what the hell was she doing in the hospital? She glanced down at herself and began cursing _loudly_ when she realised it wasn't some waking nightmare. "Sometimes I wonder how the hell you picked up that kind of shitty language." She heard a deep drawl from her left and turned her head.

"Dean." She bit out looking around for the other one, "Where's Sam?" She asked quietly. Though truthfully, she was so confused and dazed, she was beyond caring about their presence. Maybe when the shock of waking up in a hospital bed and in the presence of the Winchesters wore off, she'd start throwing punches.

"Right here." Sam replied walking into the room with two large coffee cups.

He glanced at her as he neared the bed and handed Dean the other Styrofoam cup, "Sure, let's all have a cup of coffee." She starchily commented. She was so frustrated she wanted to rip her hair out but when she lifted a hand, it was encased in plaster…and the more she thought about it, she could breathe easier now.

"You're on _a lot_ of pain meds." Dean commented taking a sip from his steaming cup of tar. He could see the blatant frustrated confusion written all over her face and if he weren't enjoying himself so much, he would have taken pity upon her and explained himself. But he hadn't had a lot of fun in the months she had left and he considered this his revenge.

Tony closed her eyes and ignored the prodding sensation from their gazes. She was trembling from the shock and she wished she could summon enough indignant anger to get up from the bed and leave. But she was weary of running and even for a little while if she could somehow pretend she wasn't living an inescapable nightmare, she would grasp the chance. She knew she wasn't the only one that had changed. Dean had gotten thinner and Sam had gotten paler; her shoulders slumped in guilt. She had done this to them. But she still stood by her belief; if she never left them, when her one-year was over, they would never get any closure. At least by her leaving them, they could come to terms with her death and prepare themselves for a lifetime without her. But they were so goddamn stubborn and now she feared she wouldn't have the strength or resolve to ever leave them again; darkly reminding herself it would be Hell that would come rip them apart. She mustn't ever forget that.

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"Well Ms. Walker, you are slowly improving." The doctor said as he looked over her chart.

She nodded from the bed and shot the two grinning brothers a glare each, "When can I leave?" She asked. Dean threw her a glare and Sam frowned: she didn't bother telling them she honestly had no urge to leave them just yet. Maybe in a few weeks when she was stronger but for now, their presences was just too welcome.

The doctor glanced at her from the top of her chart with a raised eyebrow, "You were just checked in late last night…in _deplorable_ conditions, may I add." He said shooting a frown at the brothers before glancing back at her, "I'm going to say it'll be at least another day or two before you're well enough to go back home to bed."

She nodded, having lost interest already, "Fine." She closed her eyes and looked away, effectively dismissing everyone.

The doctor motioned to Dean and the two left the room to speak quietly in the hall, leaving Sam to stare stonily at her almost lifeless pallid form. Him and Dean had noticed that whenever Tony didn't want to talk to them anymore, she closed her eyes and invariably shut them out.

And he had enough of it. He refused to let her go all these months, he was _not_ going to be in the same room with her and have her ignore him. He sat down in the chair by her head and leaned closer towards her, tracing her lips with his finger. He made sure not to go near the cut on the side of her lip, feeling a strikingly deep moment of grief when he realised he may never find a way to get her out of the deal. So he stared at her, trying to memorise every line and groove.

Tony opened her eyes and met Sam's quiet gaze, not bothering to ask what was wrong: his teary look was enough for her to understand. And in that moment, she felt their bond strengthen, becoming stronger than it had ever been. They were intrinsically connected now, transcending hollow words and empty gestures. She raised her casted arm and cupped his cheek, "I'm so sorry, Sam." She whispered.

He shook his head, the tears falling freely, "I'm not letting you go, Tony."

"Don't ask me to believe in forever, Sam. I can't." She shook her head.

Sam wiped her tears from her cheeks, "Don't give up on us."

"Don't expect forever." She returned.

"Stalemate." He sighed wishing he could kiss her but he didn't want to push his luck. He knew if he kissed her, he'd do everything in his power to go with her to Hell.

Someone cleared their throat from the doorway and when neither made a move to look a way, Tony recognised Dean's shuffled footsteps, "Okay, fine. Ignore me. Whatever." He angrily sighed, taking the empty share on the other side of her bed.

Tony moved her head, leaving her hand on Sam's face and stared at Dean, "How'd you track me down?" She asked.

He shrugged and smiled lightly, "I really wanted my coat back…and my boots."

"You put a tracker in your coat, didn't you?" She asked a full minute later.

"Tony—it was the only way—" Sam began.

Maybe it was because of the vast amount of pain medication she was floating on but at that moment, she didn't care, "Whatever. I can't believe I didn't think of it." She muttered, yawning hugely.

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The third time she awoke, she found Dean quietly talking to the doctor and glanced around worriedly for a notably missing Sam. Realising neither of them noticed she had awoken; she grasped the opportunity to study Dean. He had changed. Well, they _all_ had changed but where Sam had grown more silently serious, Dean had somehow grown more carefree. She could see it in the way his shoulders were set and now she grasped why Sam was so forceful in his conviction of saving her from Hell. It wasn't only about saving her, but about saving Dean as well. She frowned, all pretences of feigning sleep gone: the stupid jerk was acting up and she would have to put him in her place. She did not sacrifice herself only to have Dean become a loose cannon.

Dean nodded his goodbye to the doctor and turned on his heels, his heart giving a start when he found Tony staring unblinkingly at him, "Jesus you're creepy. I sure as hell didn't miss that." He muttered snagging a seat to her left.

"What's wrong with you Dean?" She asked hoarsely, clearing her throat before asking the question again.

He handed her a cup of water, "What do you mean? Are you still mad about us tracking you down? Because I've got to say, payback is a bitch—"

She shook her head, "I thought you'd get over my deal but instead, you're just…you're putting yourself on the line."

"That's our job." Dean countered frowning. He didn't miss her keenness that was for sure. Her and Sammy were too alike for their own good but he had a shotgun in his trunk and wasn't afraid to use it.

Tony sighed, "Stop putting yourself in danger, its up to you to take care of Sam when I'm gone."

"How about I take care of myself?"

Both hunters turned their attention to the doorway where Sam stood frowning; Tony swallowed guiltily, "I'm sick and tired of you both trying to protect me." He snapped stalking towards the other empty chair opposite Dean.

"Fine, whatever. Let's do this, how about we all worry about only ourselves? Okay?" She snapped when neither brother made a sound.

"I'm okay with that." Sam conceded with a frown.

"Fine." Dean bit out, crossing his arms in a huff.

She glanced at Sam, "And that means you can't try to get me out of the deal." She smirked triumphantly.

"No!" Sam snapped and glared at a chuckling Dean.

"You fell for it, idiot."

"Shut up, both of you. I'm tired and I want to sleep."


End file.
